A/N: Welcome to the next installment, wherein you'll see a restless Gaara, a sly Hinata, and a homage to one of my fav childhood films. Enjoy and please leave feedback!
Restless
Gaara had meetings in the morning, regarding trading and security between Konoha, Suna, and a village in Grass Country. One of the necessities of being the Kazekage was to attend meetings like this, but he had difficulty paying attention today.
"The second guard post has reported bandits attacking three times within the last month," said an official, but then his words started to blend into each other. "Important…goods… shaking… Intense-"
His kiss with Hinata had been intense. He had felt the warmth from her body. He hadn't been so close to another person in an intimate way. Ever. He remembered as many details about that night as possible. He wondered what people looked like when they felt pleasure – what she looked like. Wide eyes, red face, the blush flooding down –
(the blood dripping from her lifeless body-) No. The voice sounding like Shukaku reared its head, as it did when he was more emotional than usual. He knew the demon was gone and yet it had bled into his subconscious.
He furrowed his brow. She wants to be my friend. She won't try to kill me.
(You don't know that.)
No, I don't. Sobering thought. She says she wants to be my friend. But friends don't kiss.
(You want to claim her. Do it. Pin her down, push until she bleeds-)
No.
(Now you're lying to yourself. And here I thought you detested lies.) He was right. That sick, twisted voice was right. As much as Gaara tried to shake the thought from his foggy, sleep-deprived mind, it stuck.
A lurking hunger flickered to life and clawed deeper into him when he focused on Hinata. Similar to his anger and urge to kill. It scared and disgusted him. He still wanted more. She didn't fear his touch.
Was that friendship? No idea.
Time passed slowly. Too slow. At last, the meetings were over and he walked back in the direction of the guest room. Gaara paused. Restlessness gripped him. Doubtful he could last until evening to see her. He promised. Kazekages kept their promises.
His fingers twitched. Fighting to relieve stress. Needed it now. With whom?
He jumped to the street and walked. Next ninja he saw would be his opponent. (Victim.) Three minutes passed. No one but civilians. Frustrated, he turned to the right and continued down the street. Sand crawled on his skin.
Then at last, a shinobi. He had black sunglasses and spiky dark hair. He'd do. Maybe he'd seen the man fight in the Chuunin exams. Couldn't remember.
"You," he stated as he blocked the shinobi's path. "Fight me now." The shinobi straightened his posture and faced Gaara.
"I accept. Follow me to the nearest training grounds," he said, gesturing to the right with his head. They started to walk at a decent speed. Gaara was statisfied to have found a way to relieve tension. "My name is Shino Aburame," the man added. Names hardly mattered. Gaara doubted he'd remember it.
They reached the training ground and took their battle stances. The cork flew from his gourd, sand swirling in the air above him and Gaara shot a wave at Shino. Shino jumped to avoid the attack and outstretched a hand at him. Black insects shot from his sleeves, flying towards Gaara in a rush.
They fought. Gaara won, of course. He was so on edge that his attacks were quicker and distempered, thoughtless. Instead of being stationery as usual, he zigzagged across the training ground. Beads of sweat threatened to form and he turned to leave after they had finished. No idle chatter afterwards, not preferred. He was unfortunate; Aburame increased his pace to reach Gaara's side.
"Do you often demand fights from Konoha shinobi?" the other man asked.
"No. This is an unusual occurance." Gaara's tone was clipped. The sooner he could get out of this, the better.
"I see. Next time, I will be a more difficult opponent." Shino's words did not incite a reaction in Gaara. Instead, his shoulders tensed and he walked away, back to his room.
Tonight couldn't come soon enough.
0000
Hinata had been cleaning her room, as she did every week, when someone told her that her father requested to see her. This was not a common occurance and to be honest, she tried not to draw any attention to herself. It was difficult when she was the heiress of the Hyuuga, but she thought it was wise. She still tried her best, but she wanted to follow her own path.
Hiashi sat at his desk with his usual disappointed expression when she talked to him. Her knuckles tapped against the edge of the door frame and she waited for him to acknowledge her arrival. "Enter," he stated.
Hinata walked to his desk and knelt at the small cushion in front of it. Her hair fell over her shoulders as she bowed her head, wondering what the matter was. She had not done anything wrong recently, if her memory served her. She discovered the problem soon enough.
"It has come to my attention that you have a dallience with the Kazekage," said her father. "I hope this information is incorrect, because the Hyuuga clan cannot have a scandal on their hands."
Hinata blushed and wondered on what was correct to say. At times, when having a serious talk with her father, she became so worried that all the words froze in her throat and her brain could not manage to form coherent sentences. She was a statue, in essence, and that was a difficult habit to break. She worried her lip and struggled to urge the words past the lump in her throat. "It is not true. We are just friends," she said. Her father narrowed his eyes as he looked at her.
"You must ensure that your future interactions with the Kazekage are nonexistant. He is the leader of Suna and you are not in a position of power. The Hyuugas' reputation to other nations is of vital importance. Do you understand what I am saying?" he asked.
Hinata felt her stomach churn and tears prickle at the back of her eyes. The shame was difficult to handle as always and she struggled to maintain her composure in front of him. "I understand," she said, and then, to her surprise, added, "but I do not see the harm in befriending the Kazekage. It is beneficiary to establish a good relationship with people of power, isn't that right, Father? If I have the Kazekage as my friend, eventually he will realize the benefits of knowing a Hyuuga?" Her clan politics drowned her entire life and she knew how important it was to keep face. Her father feared that she would ruin their clan's image and she had to convince him otherwise.
Her father was speechless for a moment, though his expression did not reveal any surprise. "So the Hyuuga clan's reputation is forefront on your mind?" he asked.
"As it is always," said Hinata. He'd certainly talked enough about it to make it stick in her mind. Her father dismissed her then and though it might be foolish, she took it to be a good sign. She left the room and hurried back to her own bedroom, where she could rid herself of some of the embarrassment.
She wished it was night already, when she could be herself, really and truly. Perhaps if she just sat on her bed and rested for a little while, it'd kill some time. Despite her nerves, she closed her eyes and opened them to darkness outside the window. What time was it? 8 pm. It was not even late enough for Gaara to go to bed.
Hinata moved to her window and leaned against the wall as she looked outside. The tall tree directly across from her room had broad branches with a reasonable distance between them – usually empty. Gaara was standing on a branch, back against the trunk, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared into the darkness.
Her breath caught in her throat and she opened the window. Her fingers tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Gaara-sama!" she whispered to get his attention. He turned his head towards her and his arms dropped to his sides. "I didn't expect to see you so early." She said it before she could help it, but words spilled from her easier at night.
"I would not have slept until I came here," he said, and it seemed as though he wanted to add something, but changed his mind at the last moment. The meaning of what he had said did not occur to her until a few seconds later. Did he say that he was excited or restless to see her in an indirect way? Gaara-sama was not often indirect, from what she could tell.
Hinata smiled. Knowing he had been just as impatient gave her confidence that perhaps it was not such a foolish idea being friends with him after all. They fell into silence for a little while before she broke out of her hesitation and leapt from the window to join him on the branch.
Her jump was somewhat angled, so she landed close to him on the branch. They stared at each other, just breathing. Her heart pounded, butterflies fluttered around inside her stomach and the gentle breeze did nothing to calm her nerves.
His green eyes weren't as blank as they were during the day. The faint light reflected off of the well of secret sadness. Fifteen seconds passed and their eyes remained locked. Gaara turned then, as his gourd unpopped itself and sand pooled in the air besides their feet.
"Let's fly," he said and stepped onto the round disc of floating sand. Hinata followed suit – it was just large enough for the two of them to stand, shoulders brushing.
The sand hovered upwards at a snail's pace, increasing in speed as they rose above the Hyuuga house's roof.
Hinata delighted in feeling the wind rushing past her ears and the sight of the village below them. Stars twinkled in the heavens and for the first time in her life, she felt as if she might be able to touch one.
"Do you travel like this often?" Hinata wondered.
"No," said Gaara. "But it feels as though it slows time." And it did. The stars were endless above them and the more she gazed, the more they drew her into their depths.
"I never want to leave." Her words were just a whisper, but Gaara heard. He lifted the sand higher, until the lights of Konoha were dots glowing like fireflies. The wind was chillier this far up and she shivered.
A strange sensation crept up her legs and she looked down to see sand snakes curling around her until they reached her shoulders. Instead of the coldness she expected, the sand was warm as it rested on her skin. It was not too heavy either, but perhaps that was Gaara's doing.
She turned her head to look at him. Should she be offended or grateful? Nonetheless, she could not deny that she was warmer now. "What is this?" she asked.
"Sand Armor," he said. "Are you uncomfortable?" He hesitated a moment before asking his question, as if it just occurred to him her discomfort was a possibility.
Hinata shook her head. "No. Thank you." She smiled. Just as an experiment, she stretched her arm forward and pulled it back towards her to feel the sand's prickly grating against her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gaara watching her. Her cheeks warmed under the knowledge of his gaze, but she did her best to ignore it. It was a small price to pay to be where she was right now.
"Is it possible to fly some more?" she asked him, posing it as a gentle question so he could refuse if he wanted. There was a pause before he answered in the affirmative.
Gaara sent the sand cloud onwards, steady enough so that they wouldn't fall off of it. The wind whipped through Hinata's hair once more, crisp and cool enough to bring tears to her eyes. Her body from the neck down was protected and warm, and the sand softened the wind hitting her body to just a mild sensation. Did this mean Gaara was almost numb to touch?
She reached out to take his hand.